


When You Hear the Music Ring

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-23
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Wincest tattoo schmoop.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**when you hear the music ring.**  
SPN. Sam/Dean, R. Wincest tattoo schmoop. 736 words. Title from the Dire Straits.  
  
  
      _a band is blowin' dixie, double-four time  
      you feel all right, when you hear the music ring_  
  
  
His file says he's got no _identifying marks_ —that's what they call defects and ink and all—but the file doesn't know about the birthmark on the sole of his foot or the crash scar across his forehead. It doesn't know about the four claw marks across his abdomen from Colorado in ninety-four, and it doesn't know about the small, black pentagram low on his back that Dean got done when he was twenty-three.  
  
When he got back and when he went back to Dean's bed, Sam shook his head and kissed the mark and mumbled something about couldn't he have picked something more subtle? does he have to be blatantly obvious about everything?  
  
And Dean laughed, then, and he rolled over, wrapping his hand around his brother's cock and he said, fuck, yes.   
  
::  
  
It takes weeks of Sam touching and tracing the lines through his brother's skin with his fingers and tongue before he finally sighs and lets go. He leans his forehead against Dean's shoulder blades and licks the back of his neck and says, I like it. Looks good on you.  
  
And Dean snorts and tries to push Sam up and off, tries to coax him around so they're face to face. He asks, You always gotta take so long to decide everything?  
  
Sam grins. He runs his hand over Dean's chest, presses his fingers to the soft grooves between his brother's ribs, and says, I want to fuck you. He bites at the shell of Dean's ear and mumbles, That fast enough decision making for you?  
  
Dean pushes his hips up and says, Rather you just fucking do it, man. 'Stead of talking me to death.  
  
Sam trails two fingers up the hard length of his brother's dick and laughs, I don't remember you ever minding talking before.  
  
::  
  
They crash through open doors like they mean to break them down, and maybe it's just a blame the day job kind of deal. The handle bangs the wall, leaves a little dent, and Dean throws it shut behind him as Sam rushes him to the bed. They fall pulling at belts and shirts and shoes, and it takes too long to get out of everything but when they do, everything after is fast and hard and it all mirrors crashing doors and rattling glass.  
  
Dean tastes like whiskey and cigarettes even if he doesn't usually smoke, even if they were only drinking beer. His skin is sweat-damp and softer than Sam ever expects, and he doesn't taste like ink, and that's always a surprise.  
  
Pretty fuckin' fixated, Dean mumbles, half asleep, Sam's fingers tracing, mapping, his eyes open and watching.  
  
He shrugs and says, S'a part of you.  
  
And for once, Dean doesn't say anything back. He closes his eyes.  
  
::  
  
The guy doesn't want to do it when Sam's clearly had a few, but Dean does most of the talking and Sam drops his wallet on the counter with a generous-sounding thump and the guy says, Fine. The fuck ever. You bleed out, it ain't my fault, hear?  
  
Sam closes his eyes and damn near sleeps on the table, and maybe it's pain threshold, maybe it's that Dean's watching and smiling while the old ink at his back itches and hums under his skin. A bit of blood slips down Sam's sweating spine, but not too much. And Dean's not really worried. Sam's had worse cuts in his life.  
  
In their room, Dean kisses the edge of the bandage and mumbles nonsense into his brother's skin. Sam winces a little when Dean pushes him onto his back, but he makes a completely different sound when Dean's mouth covers his cock. So Dean figures it's all really okay.  
  
::  
  
When it's healed and the bandage is off, there's a matching star shape at the small of Sam's back and Dean watches his brother pulling on a shirt from across the room and he says, I thought it was too obvious.  
  
Sam shakes his head. Blatant. I said it was too blatant. He's smiling.  
  
But it's not on you? I guess it does get kinda lost on you, fuckin' giant freak.  
  
No. This one's meant to be blatant. It's just like yours.  
  
Jesus, Dean says, rolling his eyes, but Sam can tell it's just because he's got nothing else to say. C'mere, Dean tells him finally, and Sam goes. Simple as that.


End file.
